Chapter 13 - The Serpent's Mentor
Marcus didn't wait for the police. He knew that corporate titan Arthur Cross had deep political connections that could stall federal warrants for days. Marcus called his personal chief of security, a former Navy SEAL named Frank Briggs.
""Briggs, I need full surveillance on the Cross estate in Oakridge,"" Marcus commanded. ""Arthur Cross is harboring Julian.""
""We’re already on it, boss,"" Briggs responded promptly. ""My team picked up unusual activity at the Cross private helipad twenty minutes ago. A black SUV convoy arrived from the Route 9 corridor.""
Marcus kissed Nia’s forehead. ""I have to finish this.""
Nia grabbed his wrist, her grip remarkably strong despite her recovery. ""Don't go alone, Marcus. Let the law take them down.""
""Arthur owns the judges in this county, Nia. If he gets Julian onto a private flight out of state, they’ll disappear into a non-extradition sanctuary forever. I’m going to make sure the evidence is delivered directly to the Department of Justice before Arthur can shred it.""
Marcus met Briggs and three trusted security operatives in an unmarked black van outside the gates of the sprawling Cross estate. The massive wrought-iron gates were closed, but Briggs had already neutralized the electronic sensors.
Marcus walked through the wooded perimeter toward the illuminated manor. Through the panoramic French doors of the library, Marcus could clearly see Arthur Cross—seventy years old, impeccably tailored, holding a glass of scotch—standing opposite Julian, who had a fresh dressing wrapped around his bleeding shoulder.
Marcus pushed the library doors open without knocking.
Arthur didn't flinch. He merely raised his glass toward Marcus with a calm, predatory smile. ""I told Julian you’d trace the holding company within forty-eight hours. You always were my brightest student, Marcus.""
Julian drew a pistol, but Briggs stepped in from the shadows behind Marcus, raising a suppressed tactical rifle aimed directly at Julian’s head. Julian froze, his finger hovering over the trigger.
""Put it down, Julian,"" Arthur sighed, gesturing with his scotch glass. ""Violence is so unimaginative. That was your fatal flaw. You rushed things. Poisoning Nia was crude, sloppy, and sentimental.""
Marcus stepped forward, his eyes burning into his former mentor. ""You funded the entire operation. You used Julian to tear my company apart from the inside.""
""Of course I did,"" Arthur said smoothly, leaning against his antique mahogany desk. ""Your logistics network controls the entire eastern seaboard distribution corridor. You refused my buyout offer three times. You wanted to keep Vance Logistics 'independent' and 'ethical.' In business, Marcus, stubbornness is a capital offense.""
""You almost killed Nia,"" Marcus said, his voice deadly quiet. ""You tried to poison a mother in front of her child.""
""Collateral damage,"" Arthur waved his hand dismissively. ""Once Nia was gone and you were broken by grief and paternity scandals, Julian would take the helm, sign the merger, and Sterling-Cross would absorb your empire. A clean, tragic family drama.""
Marcus smiled—a cold, merciless smile that made Arthur’s eyes narrow with sudden unease.
""What's amusing to you, Marcus?"" Arthur asked, his voice losing a fraction of its smooth veneer.
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""You think I came here to negotiate,"" Marcus said, tapping his lapel. A tiny, high-definition pin camera blinked with a microscopic red light. ""The Deputy Director of the FBI, the Attorney General, and the State Police tactical command have been watching this conversation on a live federal wire for the last ten minutes.""
Arthur’s face drained of all color.
